The Story Of Little Donnie Ray Gun

Jim Acosta just Tweeted something:  “WH just played what appeared to be a campaign video defending Trump.  In the briefing room.  Just like a rally”

There’s truth in what Mr. Acosta says; there usually is.  The man’s quite reliable.  It’s also worth noting, however, that — as is his usual wont — Mr. Acosta is also missing a truth that I should think would be entirely obvious.

Perhaps I should be gracious, grateful even, for without this I’d have less to write about.  However, I really detest defending Donald Trump.  If I could have pictured what the bulk of my writing would have been over the past four years…  I’d have done the same thing, only with a lot more alcohol and depression.  Dammit.

So.  There’s a story.  Attend:

You might not remember Ronald Reagan, and if you do you probably remember him a lot differently than I do.  I was six when he was elected; my memory of his predecessor was lines for gas, high prices, and a lot of angry and depressed grown-ups.  But then this actor came along.

Now, Ronnie Ray-gun was not a policy wonk.  He wasn’t stupid; far from it — but his talents most definitely lay elsewhere.  What he achieved wasn’t in the details, which mostly got ignored or screwed up.  And he didn’t author masterful economic policy or take great strides in legislative efforts.  Ronnie waved the flag.  For the first time since Vietnam and Watergate, we were proud to be Americans.

Looking back at the 1980s, I can see two sides to how things went: We had an economic boom for no good reason at all, and a lot of people were excluded from it. We had forced optimism and big hair; we had AIDS and cocaine and crack. Billy Joel wrote the song, if you need a reminder; it’s entitled “We Didn’t Start The Fire” and is probably the least inventive melody ever composed, which perfectly represents the spirit of the ’80s.

I wonder if that’s deliberate irony.

Anyway.  What I remember the most is, I went from hiding under my desk in nuclear missile drills to having a checking account that paid 6% interest.  I went from paranoid to proud in what I now see as a very short time, and a lot of that was a senile old man waving the flag for all he was worth from the Oval Office.

Now Donald Trump is no Ronald Reagan.  He’s not a good man or a nice one; he’s an ass and horrible at his job.

But he does know what his job is right now:  It’s to let smart people do their jobs while he gets out of the way, and it’s to wave the flag for all he’s worth.  The man’s horrible at staying out of the way.  I give him a C grade at best; then again, he’s a C student.

But he knows to wave the flag.

This one thing, he’s doing as well as he possibly can.  It’s not all that well, but he’s trying.  And I have to give him credit where it’s due — because otherwise, I won’t be able to honestly give him shit tomorrow and next week about all the things he’ll screw up between now and then.

And I wouldn’t give up that privilege for the world.

I’m starting to realize, one problem with my business model is that Democrats donate and Republicans don’t. So when I write something that’s in any way pro-Trump, this button is a waste of time. I guess the reason is, Republicans tend not to see some guy writing his opinions as productive.

To which I say: I’m gonna tell the truth as I see it, and if you don’t want that, go somewhere else. But if you do, pay me what you think I’m worth and I’ll keep on doing it. Or don’t, and see what happens.

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